Best Laid Plans
by Rointheta
Summary: The Doctor tries to do romantic things with Rose, but nothing goes according to plan.


_This is the nineteenth fic in my 2013 Advent Calendar!_

**Prompt**: "'How is it that you can pilot the TARDIS but you can't manage a hot air balloon?' Rose asked, gripping to the sides of the basket for dear life."  
**Prompter**: anon  
**beta**: resile

* * *

**BEST LAID PLANS**

* * *

Holding her balance by standing with her legs wide apart, Rose clutched the sides of the wobbling hot air balloon basket and peered down at the ground far, far below. She shuddered. The picnic basket they had brought slid to her foot and toppled over, several plums rolling out of it. The Doctor moved to the side, squashing a few of the fruits under his plimsolls, and yanked at a ring hanging from the burner.

"So, tell me, Doctor. How come you can pilot the TARDIS through a plasma storm," she said, grinning at him, "but you can't even manage a hot air balloon?"

"I can!" He frowned at the dark clouds looming ahead of them. "Just not in this weather. And this is very, very bad weather, Rose."

"Why did you have to tell that pilot that you had experience?"

"I do! I've piloted many hot air balloons in my day. I was spectacular at it in, particularly, my third and fifth body."

"So it's a skill that can get, oh dunno, less brilliant when you regenerate?"

"Ehm… Well–" He cast a glance at her and, upon seeing her grin, tutted and shook his head. "Ah. You're having me on."

"Maaaybe."

"I'm glad you're in a good mood, Rose, because I have some bad–"

Another strong gust of wind hit them and he became very busy handling the hot air balloon. Rose crashed to the floor and cried out when she landed with her bum on the picnic basket, rolling over on her side and rubbing her poor behind whilst grumbling under her breath. She opened her mouth to tell the Doctor off, when the sky opened up, the sound of rain smattering at the balloon mingling with the rumbles of thunder.

"Oh, that's just great," she said and huffed out a breath. "Why didn't you check the weather forecast?"

"I did! It said sunshine and-and– Obviously, it was wrong!" He crouched down on the floor beside her, grinning from ear to ear, eyes wide and manic. "So… No need to be alarmed, but I might've lost control completely. And when I say 'might', I mean definitely."

"What?!"

"Oh, it's fine. We'll be fine. No problemo! We're, ehm… I managed to steer us to a lake. We're landing in a lake."

"Think you mean crash-landing, yeah?"

"Weell…"

"It's fine." She pointed at her white top, now see-through from the rain hammering down on them. "What's a little more water, right?"

* * *

.

* * *

"Honey, I'm hooooome," the Doctor called out as he entered the hall, cradling a bouquet of wild flowers and a large box of chocolates.

"Yeah, I can see that," Rose said, standing with Rose the dog's lead in one hand and a trainer i the other. "What's with the 'honey' and the flowers and that?"

"Oh. Ehm… Sorry for almost drowning us in a lake." He thrust the gifts into her arms and took the lead. "We're dog sitting?"

"Yeah... No. We're not. You are. Is that all right? I should've phoned you, but Pete had to rush off to the hospital. Something about his dad. And mum had a thing and Tony's staying at a friend's house and… Anyway, can you watch her? I need to take a shower before I head to work. Jake texted earlier. There's some situation with the Porpolinos again and I'm working tonight. "

The Doctor's face fell, shoulders slumping. "Oh…"

"I'm sorry, Doctor." She laid down her gifts on the table in the hall and wrapped her arms around him, slipping her hands down to his bum for a squeeze. "We do have time for a quickie, though. If you want? Eight minutes tops, though."

He dropped the lead, tossed her up on his shoulder and ran into the living room, putting her down on the sofa. Five minutes later, just as Rose the human tumbled over the edge and cried out in ecstasy, Rose the dog ran into the living room with a bark, the fur around her mouth brown from chocolate.

"Oh, my god! She ate my chocolate."

The Doctor froze mid-thrust. "What?! She what?! Did she eat the– Oh, that bloody rat-like…thing. I'm gonna–"

"Dogs can't eat chocolate, Doctor. We need to get her to the vet."

He sighed and pulled out of her, rubbing his neck. "I know. I'll-I'll take care of it. Go take your shower."

* * *

.

* * *

Curled up in the sofa next to the Doctor, Rose flipped through the overabundance of channels to find something interesting to watch. He'd tinkered with the telly as soon as he'd installed it to make sure they received several alien channels, since he found it important to keep up with universal events. Luckily, the TARDIS coral had enough strength to translate languages, as long as Rose sat close enough to its aquarium. She'd just flipped past a local news channel, and landed on a juicy soap from a planet inhabited by bipedal crab creatures, when the Doctor grabbed her arm.

"Go back."

"But I wanna watch this. I think Clipclop will finally claw his–"

"Rose, I need to watch the news," he said, pressing the back button. "Oh, no. No, no, no." He shook his head at the report about a newspaper printing press burning to the ground, mouth moving in silence until the next segment started. "I need to...check something."

He grabbed the backrest and jumped over the sofa, darting out of the living room. She shrugged, turned back to the telly and chose the soap, grabbing the blanket folded over the armrest and draping it over herself. Not long after, the sound of the Doctor's irritated voice reached her and she cocked an ear to see if she could make out any words, but to no avail. Frowning, she turned off the telly and got up in search for him but, before she'd left the living room, he returned, red faced and huffy.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong? We subscribe to that newspaper, you know. It's our morning paper! With-with the crossword puzzle."

"Oh. Okay. Uhm…"

"You love that crossword puzzle! Solve it every morning with your cuppa and your eggs and…" He scowled and kicked the back of the sofa, squawking at the pain and jumping on the other foot. "We won't get the paper tomorrow."

"That's okay. It's not that important to me, Doctor."

"But!" He sighed and slumped down on the armrest, cradling his toe. "I think I hurt myself."

"Yeah? It's not broken, is it?"

"Nah, just…" Pouting, he ducked his head and looked up at her with big, brown puppy dog eyes. "Hurts a bit."

She smiled and knelt down in front of him, pulling his sock off and placing a kiss on his foot. "There. Feel better?"

"Yeah…" He broke out in a sly grin and waggled his eyebrows. "I think I hurt myself somewhere else as well…"

"Oh, I bet you did," she said and pounced, falling onto the sofa with him and straddling his hips.

* * *

.

* * *

Rose stretched out on the plaid blanket with a content moan and settled onto her back, arms crossed under her head, breathing in the scent of freshly cut grass. The Doctor lay beside her in a similar position, humming to himself and watching a couple of birds gliding through the air.

She poked his leg with her bare foot. "This is nice."

"Mm."

"You've been very romantic lately, you have. What, with the hot air balloon, the restaurant the other night, and chocolates and this..."

"Weell. I'm happy. Suppose that brings out the romantic in me."

She scooted closer and nuzzled the crook of his neck. "You really are, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"I'm glad. I… I did worry. I did. Uhm… You always said no domestics and now it's nothing but domestics."

"That's not entirely true."

"Maybe not. But still…" She pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I'm happy, too."

"Of course you are! You're having a picnic with the man of your dreams on a beautiful summer's day. Just look at that sky!" he said, gesturing at it. "Not a cloud in sight. Not a one."

"Yeah, that's good. Maybe we'll avoid coming home soaking wet this time."

"Eeer, yeah… Sorry about that. I'll let the hot air balloon pilot join us the next time we take a ride in one of those."

"Or," she said, rolling onto her side and curling a leg around his, "you could build a better weather predictor thingamajig and take me out on a sunny day and show off your piloting skills."

"Hm… I like that idea. I think I shall! Just to use in private, of course. The human race isn't quite ready for that kind of sophisticated technology. Suppose I could— Oh, look at that!" He nudged her with his elbow. "A lovely red airplane flying, ehm, up there. Isn't it pretty? Look, Rose."

"Uhm… Yeah... It's lovely. What's up with– Oh, my god!" She sat up when her eye caught a spaceship hurtling down from the sky a bit to the left of the airplane. "Look, it's gonna crash. We better get over there."

She grabbed her trainers and sprinted down the field towards the crash site, casting a glance over her shoulder to see if the Doctor followed her. He stood on the blanket, pouting and muttering to himself.

"Oi! You coming? People might be hurt," she said, pulling out her mobile to text Jake about the accident. "Or get hurt. Depending on what's in that ship."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, grabbed the picnic basket and the blanket, and started running after her.

"Bloody aliens. Always ruining everything. For fuck's sake. Oh, and I bet it's those bloody Slitheens, too. Did you see?" he asked, sidling up to her. "Looked just like the spaceship with that bloody pig and the farts and bloody suits made out of humans and–"

"Blimey, that's quite a mouth on you. Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Bloody peachy, that's what I am."

"Oh, Doctor. We can go on a picnic next weekend, yeah? And I think you're right. It did look the same. You know, I looked up all the things we did in the prime universe after I came here. Just to see what didn't happen here. And there never were Raxacoricofallapatorians in Downing Street... Hm," she said, walking up to the Torchwood team already on site. "I wonder what happened to Blon after we made her an egg."

"Oh, hello agent Tyler," a young man said, nodding to them. "Doctor."

"Hi, Neill. So, what do we got?"

* * *

.

* * *

"Doctor?" Rose fumbled her way to the table in the hall where she always dropped her purse and keys. Running her fingers along the wall, she found her way to the living-room. The soft notes of a romantic aria playing in the background welcomed her, the scent of vanilla filling her nose. "Doctor, are you home? I need some help."

She bumped into the chest of drawers placed on the wall leading to the kitchen and, out of reflex, her hand shot out to grab ahold of something. She snatched her hand back with a yelp as her palm landed on something burning hot.

"Rose, are you all right?" the Doctor called, voice muffled.

"No. I burned my hand," she shouted and, hearing footsteps down the staircase, asked in a normal voice, "Have you lit candles down here?"

"Ehm, yes. Can't you see– Oh! Oh, Rose!" He rushed up to her and placed one hand on her upper arm, the other gripping her chin to angle her head. "You're hurt. May I?"

"Yeah," she said, feeling careful fingers prod at the gauze covering her eyes, lifting the edge of it. "I'm fine, though. Doctor McKay took care of it."

"What happened?" He curled his hand around her elbow and led her to sit on the sofa.

"It was the Porpolinos again. God, they're such a menace, they are. They spat this guck at us and I got it in my face. My eyes are gonna be fine, though. Doctor McKay cleaned them and used some...balm and then the gauze and I'm feeling a bit loopy 'cause of the painkillers."

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Not anymore. Torchwood's got some good painkillers," she said with a laugh.

"And how did you get home?"

"Jake dropped me off."

"And your hand? You burned it?"

"Oh, no. I'm all right. I was just surprised." She yawned, wiggling her body as she stretched. "Is it okay if we go straight to bed? I'm supposed to rest."

"Ehm… I've cooked. Proper dinner. That's to say, homecooked dinner. That I cooked. In our home, from scratch."

She smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "All right. Can we eat it in bed and then go to sleep? I'm knackered, Doctor. And loopy. Didn't I say?"

"Yes, you did. Okay. C'mere, then."

He scooped her up in his arms and she linked hers around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs bridal style.

"Never thought I'd see the day where you carried me this way."

"Well, technically, you're not really seeing it, are you?"

She laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"And why wouldn't I carry you over the threshold after our wedding? Isn't that the human way?"

"Our wedding?" She grinned, tongue poking out between her teeth. "We're having one of those?"

"Oh, I don't know… Maybe some day?"

"Mhm." She patted him on the chest. "What's for dinner, then?"

"Seafood risotto with chocolate lava cake as dessert."

"What?" She sighed. "Doctor, what did you do now?"

"Nothing!"

"But that's my favourite. And it's a Tuesday. You didn't point out to mum that she's gained a bit, did you? I know it's true, but you don't have to say it."

"No, 'course not. I value my very short life too much to be that rude. I just…" He laid Rose down on the bed and fluffed up a couple of pillow behind her back. "You've worked a lot lately, Rose. And I've been planning all these romantic dates to spend some time with you and they've all just failed, and… I just wanted to surprise you."

"Oh, Doctor... I'm sorry." She reached out in search for his tie, grabbing it and tugging him closer. "I've missed you." She brushed her lips over his. "Maybe I can take a few days off next month. How's that sound?"

"Yes. I'd love that. Now, lean back and rest, and I'll bring you some dinner."

* * *

.

* * *

Rose lit the last candle on the table and stood back with a content hum, biting her lip and smiling as she inspected her work. She'd got home early from work, cleaned the house, put on a nice dress, and cooked a three course meal to surprise the Doctor. The small velvet box she'd got the day before lay hidden behind a flower pot, since she didn't have any pockets, and she'd put champagne on ice. She heard the key turn in the lock and slipped out of her apron, positioning herself in front of the set table with a big smile on her face.

"Rose? You're home ear–" The Doctor's jaw dropped, eyes flitting between her and the table. "What…? Are we celebrating something? Oooh, did Carlson see reason and give you that promotion? You're brilliant, you are. Can't believe it took her this long–"

"No…"

His mouth curved into a smile. "Then what…?"

"Go shower and put on a new suit and I'll tell you over dinner, yeah?"

* * *

.

* * *

"So?" Rose asked, watching him stick the dessert fork in his mouth. "Is it good?"

"Yeah, very good. Best banana cream cheesecake I've ever had. And now that I've eaten my salad and my dinner and started my dessert, can you tell me the occasion, perhaps? I think I've displayed an impressive amount of patience, wouldn't you say?"

She laughed. "Yeah."

"Well then," he said, motioning to her to spill by waving his hand.

"Yeah. Uhm… We've been together for three years, now. Properly, I mean. With the, uhm, the-the shagging and the… I mean… I considered us together before, but–"

"I did, too."

She broke out in a smile. "Yeah… Anyway, we've lived together, on Earth–this Earth–for three years, now. And I love you and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. 'Cause you're brilliant and sexy and charming–and just so infuriating, rude and thick, sometimes, and–"

"Oi!"

"And," she said with a pointed look, "that just makes me love you even more."

"Oh." He beamed, tilting his head from one side to the other.

"So…" She exhaled a sharp breath and pulled out the velvet box from behind the flower pot and flipped it open, revealing two simple gold bands. "Doctor, I love you. And I… Well, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?"

"What?!" He stood up with a huff, glaring at the rings. "But-but-but…! No! Absolutely not! This isn't–"

"I'm sorry. I thought you wanted to." She closed the box and slid it behind the pot again, blinking away the tears prickling behind her eyes. "'Course you don't. Bit too domestic, yeah? That's okay. I don't need that whole wedding thing, anyway. Daft idea, really. We don't need–"

"What? No. No, no, no. Rose…" He threw himself down on his knees in front of her and pulled out a small velvet box from his trouser pocket. "Look. Look at this. I've been carrying this around for two months, now."

"You have?"

"Yeah. I've tried to propose to you eight times. And every time something's happened. The crossword puzzle spelling out my proposal doesn't get printed, you had to run off from the restaurant because of some disaster at work, and then your best friend went into labour the night I'd booked a hotel room and…" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Rose the annoying little dog ate the chocolate box where I'd hid your ring. And of course she ate that, too. And I had to take her to the vet and scoop the ring out of the poo."

"What? Eugh," she said, scrunching up her nose.

"It's cleaned! I've cleaned it, several times. And then, the other day, I even tried to propose at home. 'Cause I reckoned nothing could go wrong at home, right? But then you–you, Rose Tyler–came home with gauze over your eyes. Eight times in two months, Rose. And I started to think that, maybe, it wasn't meant to be. And I don't even believe in that rubbish."

She ruffled his hair, sliding her hand down to cup his cheek. "Oh, Doctor."

"I'm sorry I snapped at you. I've just been really frustrated lately and–"

"It's okay." She laughed and threw herself at him, kissing him on the kitchen floor until she needed to pull back for breath. She sat up, one knee on either side of his legs, loosening his tie. "I'm sorry I stole your thunder. S'just… I initiated our first kiss, and our second, and our third. Then I was the one who said we should go on a proper date," she said, slipping the buttons of his shirt through the holes one by one. "And I was the one who, uhm, went down on you first." She grinned and tugged his shirt out of his trousers. "I invited you to my bed, suggested we get a flat together, then a house together… I've been the one initiating everything. Just didn't think you'd actually propose even if you wanted to get married."

"Oh," he said, lifting his hips when she unfastened his trousers and started yanking them down.

"And I've been wanting this for a while." Grabbing the hemline of her dress, she pulled it over her head and tossed it somewhere behind her. "Ever since Gwen and Rhys got married last year, actually. Just seemed so…lovely. But I didn't think you'd… But then," she said, unhooking and removing her bra. "The last few months, you've been...different. And you said that thing about our wedding and…" She grinned and nuzzled his nose. "Reckoned I'd get a yes."

He made a happy noise in the back of his throat. "Of course it's a yes. Yes, I want to be your husband, Rose Tyler."

"Good. 'Cause I wanna be your wife."

* * *

.

* * *

"Well, that's a first," Rose said, toying with his chest hair. "Can't believe we waited this long to shag on the kitchen floor."

"I can! Ugh, my back."

"Yeah, old man? Should we stick to the bed from now on? That better for you?"

"No, but next time maybe I can be on top and we'll see how cocky you are."

"I'm not the one who's supposed to be cocky, Doctor," she said, cupping him and smirking.

"Well, done. Very funny."

"Thank you!" She beamed, tilting her chin up. "So, two months, yeah? Walking around with that ring and all… Did you ask my parents for permission, then?"

"No. You're a grown woman, Rose. Didn't think I needed to ask Pete for your hand in marriage. Why? D'you think he'll be upset I didn't?"

"No." She laughed. "Mum might, though."

He widened his eyes in alarm. "You think?"

"Nah. She'll be too happy about planning a big wedding now that she has the dough and the time."

He pulled a face. "Eugh. Didn't think of that. Eeer... Rose?" he asked, tugging at his ear. "What are your feelings about...eloping?"

* * *

**the end**


End file.
